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Chapter 27: The Anchor

Beside her bed sat Julian. His tuxedo shirt was rumpled, his bowtie long gone, and dark circles shadowed his eyes. He looked up, and the breath hitched in his throat as he saw her eyes open and aware.

He didn't speak right away. He simply reached out and took her hand, his grip gentle but incredibly firm. His presence was a comforting anchor against the lingering trauma that threatened to pull her under every time she closed her eyes.

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"You're safe," he finally whispered, his voice raspy from disuse. "You are completely safe. I promise you."

Elara squeezed his hand weakly. She didn't need to speak. The terror of the fall was still fresh, but the safety in his eyes was absolute. She had survived the worst they could do to her.

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